The weak bond of union, by which
Gustavus Adolphus contrived to hold together the Protestant members
of the empire, was dissolved by his death: the allies were now again
at liberty, and their alliance, to last, must be formed anew. By
the former event, if unremedied, they would lose all the advantages
they had gained at the cost of so much bloodshed, and expose
themselves to the inevitable danger of becoming one after the other
the prey of an enemy, whom, by their union alone, they had been able
to oppose and to master. Neither Sweden, nor any of the states of
the empire, was singly a match with the Emperor and the League; and,
by seeking a peace under the present state of things, they would
necessarily be obliged to receive laws from the enemy. Union was,
therefore, equally indispensable, either for concluding a peace or
continuing the war. But a peace, sought under the present
circumstances, could not fail to be disadvantageous to the allied
powers. With the death of Gustavus Adolphus, the enemy had formed
new hopes; and however gloomy might be the situation of his affairs
after the battle of Lutzen, still the death of his dreaded rival was
an event too disastrous to the allies, and too favourable for the
Emperor, not to justify him in entertaining the most brilliant
expectations, and not to encourage him to the prosecution of the
war. Its inevitable consequence, for the moment at least, must be
want of union among the allies, and what might not the Emperor and
the League gain from such a division of their enemies? He was not
likely to sacrifice such prospects, as the present turn of affairs
held out to him, for any peace, not highly beneficial to himself;
and such a peace the allies would not be disposed to accept. They
naturally determined, therefore, to continue the war, and for this
purpose, the maintenance of the existing union was acknowledged to
be indispensable. But how was this union to be renewed? and whence
were to be derived the necessary means for continuing the war? It
was not the power of Sweden, but the talents and personal influence
of its late king, which had given him so overwhelming an influence
in Germany, so great a command over the minds of men; and even he
had innumerable difficulties to overcome, before he could establish
among the states even a weak and wavering alliance. With his death
vanished all, which his personal qualities alone had rendered
practicable; and the mutual obligation of the states seemed to cease
with the hopes on which it had been founded. Several impatiently
threw off the yoke which had always been irksome; others hastened to
seize the helm which they had unwillingly seen in the hands of
Gustavus, but which, during his lifetime, they did not dare to
dispute with him. Some were tempted, by the seductive promises of
the Emperor, to abandon the alliance; others, oppressed by the heavy
burdens of a fourteen years' war, longed for the repose of peace,
upon any conditions, however ruinous. The generals of the army,
partly German princes, acknowledged no common head, and no one would
stoop to receive orders from another. Unanimity vanished alike from
the cabinet and the field, and their common weal was threatened with
ruin, by the spirit of disunion.

Gustavus had left no male heir to the
crown of Sweden: his daughter Christina, then six years old, was the
natural heir. The unavoidable weakness of a regency, suited ill with
that energy and resolution, which Sweden would be called upon to
display in this trying conjuncture. The wide reaching mind of
Gustavus Adolphus had raised this unimportant, and hitherto unknown
kingdom, to a rank among the powers of Europe, which it could not
retain without the fortune and genius of its author, and from which
it could not recede, without a humiliating confession of weakness.
Though the German war had been conducted chiefly on the resources of
Germany, yet even the small contribution of men and money, which
Sweden furnished, had sufficed to exhaust the finances of that poor
kingdom, and the peasantry groaned beneath the imposts necessarily
laid upon them. The plunder gained in Germany enriched only a few
individuals, among the nobles and the soldiers, while Sweden itself
remained poor as before. For a time, it is true, the national glory
reconciled the subject to these burdens, and the sums exacted,
seemed but as a loan placed at interest, in the fortunate hand of
Gustavus Adolphus, to be richly repaid by the grateful monarch at
the conclusion of a glorious peace. But with the king's death this
hope vanished, and the deluded people now loudly demanded relief
from their burdens.

But the spirit of Gustavus Adolphus
still lived in the men to whom he had confided the administration of
the kingdom. However dreadful to them, and unexpected, was the
intelligence of his death, it did not deprive them of their manly
courage; and the spirit of ancient Rome, under the invasion of
Brennus and Hannibal, animated this noble assembly. The greater the
price, at which these hard-gained advantages had been purchased, the
less readily could they reconcile themselves to renounce them: not
unrevenged was a king to be sacrificed. Called on to choose between
a doubtful and exhausting war, and a profitable but disgraceful
peace, the Swedish council of state boldly espoused the side of
danger and honour; and with agreeable surprise, men beheld this
venerable senate acting with all the energy and enthusiasm of
youth. Surrounded with watchful enemies, both within and without,
and threatened on every side with danger, they armed themselves
against them all, with equal prudence and heroism, and laboured to
extend their kingdom, even at the moment when they had to struggle
for its existence.

The decease of the king, and the
minority of his daughter Christina, renewed the claims of Poland to
the Swedish throne; and King Ladislaus, the son of Sigismund, spared
no intrigues to gain a party in Sweden. On this ground, the regency
lost no time in proclaiming the young queen, and arranging the
administration of the regency. All the officers of the kingdom were
summoned to do homage to their new princess; all correspondence with
Poland prohibited, and the edicts of previous monarchs against the
heirs of Sigismund, confirmed by a solemn act of the nation. The
alliance with the Czar of Muscovy was carefully renewed, in order,
by the arms of this prince, to keep the hostile Poles in check.

The death of Gustavus Adolphus had put
an end to the jealousy of Denmark, and removed the grounds of alarm
which had stood in the way of a good understanding between the two
states. The representations by which the enemy sought to stir up
Christian IV. against Sweden were no longer listened to; and the
strong wish the Danish monarch entertained for the marriage of his
son Ulrick with the young princess, combined, with the dictates of a
sounder policy, to incline him to a neutrality. At the same time,
England, Holland, and France came forward with the gratifying
assurances to the regency of continued friendship and support, and
encouraged them, with one voice, to prosecute with activity the war,
which hitherto had been conducted with so much glory.

Whatever reason France might have to
congratulate itself on the death of the Swedish conqueror, it was as
fully sensible of the expediency of maintaining the alliance with
Sweden. Without exposing itself to great danger, it could not allow
the power of Sweden to sink in Germany. Want of resources of its
own, would either drive Sweden to conclude a hasty and
disadvantageous peace with Austria, and then all the past efforts to
lower the ascendancy of this dangerous power would be thrown away;
or necessity and despair would drive the armies to extort from the
Roman Catholic states the means of support, and France would then be
regarded as the betrayer of those very states, who had placed
themselves under her powerful protection. The death of
Gustavus, far from breaking up the alliance between France and
Sweden, had only rendered it more necessary for both, and more
profitable for France. Now, for the first time, since he was dead
who had stretched his protecting arm over Germany, and guarded its
frontiers against the encroaching designs of France, could the
latter safely pursue its designs upon Alsace, and thus be enabled to
sell its aid to the German Protestants at a dearer rate.

Strengthened by these alliances, secured
in its interior, and defended from without by strong frontier
garrisons and fleets, the regency did not delay an instant to
continue a war, by which Sweden had little of its own to lose,
while, if success attended its arms, one or more of the German
provinces might be won, either as a conquest, or indemnification of
its expenses. Secure amidst its seas, Sweden, even if driven out of
Germany, would scarcely be exposed to greater peril, than if it
voluntarily retired from the contest, while the former measure was
as honourable, as the latter was disgraceful. The more boldness the
regency displayed, the more confidence would they inspire among
their confederates, the more respect among their enemies, and the
more favourable conditions might they anticipate in the event of
peace. If they found themselves too weak to execute the
wide-ranging projects of Gustavus, they at least owed it to this
lofty model to do their utmost, and to yield to no difficulty short
of absolute necessity.

Alas, that motives of self-interest had
too great a share in this noble determination, to demand our
unqualified admiration! For those who had nothing themselves to
suffer from the calamities of war, but were rather to be enriched by
it, it was an easy matter to resolve upon its continuation; for the
German empire was, in the end, to defray the expenses; and the
provinces on which they reckoned, would be cheaply purchased with
the few troops they sacrificed to them, and with the generals who
were placed at the head of armies, composed for the most part of
Germans, and with the honourable superintendence of all the
operations, both military and political.

But this superintendence was
irreconcileable with the distance of the Swedish regency from the
scene of action, and with the slowness which necessarily accompanies
all the movements of a council. To one comprehensive mind must be
intrusted the management of Swedish interests in Germany, and with
full powers to determine at discretion all questions of war and
peace, the necessary alliances, or the acquisitions made. With
dictatorial power, and with the whole influence of the crown which
he was to represent, must this important magistrate be invested, in
order to maintain its dignity, to enforce united and combined
operations, to give effect to his orders, and to supply the place of
the monarch whom he succeeded. Such a man was found in the
Chancellor Oxenstiern, the first minister, and what is more, the
friend of the deceased king, who, acquainted with all the secrets of
his master, versed in the politics of Germany, and in the relations
of all the states of Europe, was unquestionably the fittest
instrument to carry out the plans of Gustavus Adolphus in their full
extent.

Oxenstiern was on his way to Upper
Germany, in order to assemble the four Upper Circles, when the news
of the king's death reached him at Hanau. This was a heavy blow,
both to the friend and the statesman. Sweden, indeed, had lost but a
king, Germany a protector; but Oxenstiern, the author of his
fortunes, the friend of his soul, and the object of his admiration.
Though the greatest sufferer in the general loss, he was the first
who by his energy rose from the blow, and the only one qualified to
repair it. His penetrating glance foresaw all the obstacles which
would oppose the execution of his plans, the discouragement of the
estates, the intrigues of hostile courts, the breaking up of the
confederacy, the jealousy of the leaders, and the dislike of princes
of the empire to submit to foreign authority.

But even this deep insight into the
existing state of things, which revealed the whole extent of the
evil, showed him also the means by which it might be overcome. It
was essential to revive the drooping courage of the weaker states,
to meet the secret machinations of the enemy, to allay the jealousy
of the more powerful allies, to rouse the friendly powers, and
France in particular, to active assistance; but above all, to repair
the ruined edifice of the German alliance, and to reunite the
scattered strength of the party by a close and permanent bond of
union.

The dismay which the loss of their
leader occasioned the German Protestants, might as readily dispose
them to a closer alliance with Sweden, as to a hasty peace with the
Emperor; and it depended entirely upon the course pursued, which of
these alternatives they would adopt. Every thing might be lost by
the slightest sign of despondency; nothing, but the confidence which
Sweden showed in herself, could kindle among the Germans a noble
feeling of self-confidence. All the attempts of Austria, to detach
these princes from the Swedish alliance, would be unavailing, the
moment their eyes became opened to their true interests, and they
were instigated to a public and formal breach with the Emperor.

Before these measures could be taken,
and the necessary points settled between the regency and their
minister, a precious opportunity of action would, it is true, be
lost to the Swedish army, of which the enemy would be sure to take
the utmost advantage. It was, in short, in the power of the Emperor
totally to ruin the Swedish interest in Germany, and to this he was
actually invited by the prudent councils of the Duke of Friedland.
Wallenstein advised him to proclaim a universal amnesty, and to meet
the Protestant states with favourable conditions. In the first
consternation produced by the fall of Gustavus Adolphus, such a
declaration would have had the most powerful effects, and probably
would have brought the wavering states back to their allegiance. But
blinded by this unexpected turn of fortune, and infatuated by
Spanish counsels, he anticipated a more brilliant issue from war,
and, instead of listening to these propositions of an accommodation,
he hastened to augment his forces.

Spain, enriched by the grant of the
tenth of the ecclesiastical possessions, which the pope confirmed,
sent him considerable supplies, negociated for him at the Saxon
court, and hastily levied troops for him in Italy to be employed in
Germany. The Elector of Bavaria also considerably increased his
military force; and the restless disposition of the Duke of Lorraine
did not permit him to remain inactive in this favourable change of
fortune. But while the enemy were thus busy to profit by the
disaster of Sweden, Oxenstiern was diligent to avert its most fatal
consequences. Less apprehensive of open enemies, than of the
jealousy of the friendly powers, he left Upper Germany, which he had
secured by conquests and alliances, and set out in person to prevent
a total defection of the Lower German states, or, what would have
been almost equally ruinous to Sweden, a private alliance among
themselves.

Offended at the boldness with which the
chancellor assumed the direction of affairs, and inwardly
exasperated at the thought of being dictated to by a Swedish
nobleman, the Elector of Saxony again meditated a dangerous
separation from Sweden; and the only question in his mind was,
whether he should make full terms with the Emperor, or place himself
at the head of the Protestants and form a third party in Germany.
Similar ideas were cherished by Duke Ulric of Brunswick, who,
indeed, showed them openly enough by forbidding the Swedes from
recruiting within his dominions, and inviting the Lower Saxon states
to Luneburg, for the purpose of forming a confederacy among
themselves. The Elector of Brandenburg, jealous of the influence
which Saxony was likely to attain in Lower Germany, alone manifested
any zeal for the interests of the Swedish throne, which, in thought,
he already destined for his son.

At the court of Saxony, Oxenstiern was
no doubt honourably received; but, notwithstanding the personal
efforts of the Elector of Brandenburg, empty promises of continued
friendship were all which he could obtain. With the Duke of
Brunswick he was more successful, for with him he ventured to assume
a bolder tone. Sweden was at the time in possession of the See of
Magdeburg, the bishop of which had the power of assembling the Lower
Saxon circle. The chancellor now asserted the rights of the crown,
and by this spirited proceeding, put a stop for the present to this
dangerous assembly designed by the duke. The main object, however,
of his present journey and of his future endeavours, a general
confederacy of the Protestants, miscarried entirely, and he was
obliged to content himself with some unsteady alliances in the Saxon
circles, and with the weaker assistance of Upper Germany. As the
Bavarians were too powerful on the Danube, the assembly of the four
Upper Circles, which should have been held at Ulm, was removed to
Heilbronn, where deputies of more than twelve cities of the empire,
with a brilliant crowd of doctors, counts, and princes, attended.

The ambassadors of foreign powers
likewise, France, England, and Holland, attended this Congress, at
which Oxenstiern appeared in person, with all the splendour of the
crown whose representative he was. He himself opened the
proceedings, and conducted the deliberations. After receiving from
all the assembled estates assurances of unshaken fidelity,
perseverance, and unity, he required of them solemnly and formally
to declare the Emperor and the league as enemies. But desirable as
it was for Sweden to exasperate the ill-feeling between the emperor
and the estates into a formal rupture, the latter, on the other
hand, were equally indisposed to shut out the possibility of
reconciliation, by so decided a step, and to place themselves
entirely in the hands of the Swedes. They maintained, that any
formal declaration of war was useless and superfluous, where the act
would speak for itself, and their firmness on this point silenced at
last the chancellor. Warmer disputes arose on the third and
principal article of the treaty, concerning the means of prosecuting
the war, and the quota which the several states ought to furnish for
the support of the army. Oxenstiern's maxim, to throw as much as
possible of the common burden on the states, did not suit very well
with their determination to give as little as possible.

The Swedish chancellor now experienced,
what had been felt by thirty emperors before him, to their cost,
that of all difficult undertakings, the most difficult was to extort
money from the Germans. Instead of granting the necessary sums for
the new armies to be raised, they eloquently dwelt upon the
calamities occasioned by the former, and demanded relief from the
old burdens, when they were required to submit to new. The
irritation which the chancellor's demand for money raised among the
states, gave rise to a thousand complaints; and the outrages
committed by the troops, in their marches and quarters, were dwelt
upon with a startling minuteness and truth. In the service of two
absolute monarchs, Oxenstiern had but little opportunity to become
accustomed to the formalities and cautious proceedings of republican
deliberations, or to bear opposition with patience. Ready to act,
the instant the necessity of action was apparent, and inflexible in
his resolution, when he had once taken it, he was at a loss to
comprehend the inconsistency of most men, who, while they desire the
end, are yet averse to the means.

Prompt and impetuous by nature, he was
so on this occasion from principle; for every thing depended on
concealing the weakness of Sweden, under a firm and confident
speech, and by assuming the tone of a lawgiver, really to become
so. It was nothing wonderful, therefore, if, amidst these
interminable discussions with German doctors and deputies, he was
entirely out of his sphere, and if the deliberateness which
distinguishes the character of the Germans in their public
deliberations, had driven him almost to despair. Without respecting
a custom, to which even the most powerful of the emperors had been
obliged to conform, he rejected all written deliberations which
suited so well with the national slowness of resolve. He could not
conceive how ten days could be spent in debating a measure, which
with himself was decided upon its bare suggestion. Harshly,
however, as he treated the States, he found them ready enough to
assent to his fourth motion, which concerned himself. When he
pointed out the necessity of giving a head and a director to the new
confederation, that honour was unanimously assigned to Sweden, and
he himself was humbly requested to give to the common cause the
benefit of his enlightened experience, and to take upon himself the
burden of the supreme command. But in order to prevent his abusing
the great powers thus conferred upon him, it was proposed, not
without French influence, to appoint a number of overseers, in fact,
under the name of assistants, to control the expenditure of the
common treasure, and to consult with him as to the levies, marches,
and quarterings of the troops.

Oxenstiern long and strenuously resisted
this limitation of his authority, which could not fail to trammel
him in the execution of every enterprise requiring promptitude or
secrecy, and at last succeeded, with difficulty, in obtaining so far
a modification of it, that his management in affairs of war was to
be uncontrolled. The chancellor finally approached the delicate
point of the indemnification which Sweden was to expect at the
conclusion of the war, from the gratitude of the allies, and
flattered himself with the hope that Pomerania, the main object of
Sweden, would be assigned to her, and that he would obtain from the
provinces, assurances of effectual cooperation in its acquisition.
But he could obtain nothing more than a vague assurance, that in a
general peace the interests of all parties would be attended to.
That on this point, the caution of the estates was not owing to any
regard for the constitution of the empire, became manifest from the
liberality they evinced towards the chancellor, at the expense of
the most sacred laws of the empire. They were ready to grant him the
archbishopric of Mentz, (which he already held as a conquest,) and
only with difficulty did the French ambassador succeed in preventing
a step, which was as impolitic as it was disgraceful. Though on the
whole, the result of the congress had fallen far short of
Oxenstiern's expectations, he had at least gained for himself and
his crown his main object, namely, the direction of the whole
confederacy; he had also succeeded in strengthening the bond of
union between the four upper circles, and obtained from the states a
yearly contribution of two millions and a half of dollars, for the
maintenance of the army.

These concessions on the part of the
States, demanded some return from Sweden. A few weeks after the
death of Gustavus Adolphus, sorrow ended the days of the unfortunate
Elector Palatine. For eight months he had swelled the pomp of his
protector's court, and expended on it the small remainder of his
patrimony. He was, at last, approaching the goal of his wishes, and
the prospect of a brighter future was opening, when death deprived
him of his protector. But what he regarded as the greatest
calamity, was highly favourable to his heirs. Gustavus might
venture to delay the restoration of his dominions, or to load the
gift with hard conditions; but Oxenstiern, to whom the friendship of
England, Holland, and Brandenburg, and the good opinion of the
Reformed States were indispensable, felt the necessity of
immediately fulfilling the obligations of justice. At this assembly,
at Heilbronn, therefore, he engaged to surrender to Frederick's
heirs the whole Palatinate, both the part already conquered, and
that which remained to be conquered, with the exception of Manheim,
which the Swedes were to hold, until they should be indemnified for
their expenses. The Chancellor did not confine his liberality to
the family of the Palatine alone; the other allied princes received
proofs, though at a later period, of the gratitude of Sweden, which,
however, she dispensed at little cost to herself.

Impartiality, the most sacred obligation
of the historian, here compels us to an admission, not much to the
honour of the champions of German liberty. However the Protestant
Princes might boast of the justice of their cause, and the sincerity
of their conviction, still the motives from which they acted were
selfish enough; and the desire of stripping others of their
possessions, had at least as great a share in the commencement of
hostilities, as the fear of being deprived of their own. Gustavus
soon found that he might reckon much more on these selfish motives,
than on their patriotic zeal, and did not fail to avail himself of
them. Each of his confederates received from him the promise of some
possession, either already wrested, or to be afterwards taken from
the enemy; and death alone prevented him from fulfilling these
engagements.

What prudence had suggested to the king,
necessity now prescribed to his successor. If it was his object to
continue the war, he must be ready to divide the spoil among the
allies, and promise them advantages from the confusion which it was
his object to continue. Thus he promised to the Landgrave of Hesse,
the abbacies of Paderborn, Corvey, Munster, and Fulda; to Duke
Bernard of Weimar, the Franconian Bishoprics; to the Duke of
Wirtemberg, the Ecclesiastical domains, and the Austrian counties
lying within his territories, all under the title of fiefs of
Sweden. This spectacle, so strange and so dishonourable to the
German character, surprised the Chancellor, who found it difficult
to repress his contempt, and on one occasion exclaimed, "Let it be
writ in our records, for an everlasting memorial, that a German
prince made such a request of a Swedish nobleman, and that the
Swedish nobleman granted it to the German upon German ground!"

After these successful measures, he was
in a condition to take the field, and prosecute the war with fresh
vigour. Soon after the victory at Lutzen, the troops of Saxony and
Lunenburg united with the Swedish main body; and the Imperialists
were, in a short time, totally driven from Saxony. The united army
again divided: the Saxons marched towards Lusatia and Silesia, to
act in conjunction with Count Thurn against the Austrians in that
quarter; a part of the Swedish army was led by the Duke of Weimar
into Franconia, and the other by George, Duke of Brunswick, into
Westphalia and Lower Saxony. The conquests on the Lech and the
Danube, during Gustavus's expedition into Saxony, had been
maintained by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, and the Swedish General
Banner, against the Bavarians; but unable to hold their ground
against the victorious progress of the latter, supported as they
were by the bravery and military experience of the Imperial General
Altringer, they were under the necessity of summoning the Swedish
General Horn to their assistance, from Alsace.

This experienced general having captured
the towns of Benfeld, Schlettstadt, Colmar, and Hagenau, committed
the defence of them to the Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and hastily
crossed the Rhine to form a junction with Banner's army. But
although the combined force amounted to more than 16,000, they could
not prevent the enemy from obtaining a strong position on the
Swabian frontier, taking Kempten, and being joined by seven
regiments from Bohemia. In order to retain the command of the
important banks of the Lech and the Danube, they were under the
necessity of recalling the Rhinegrave Otto Louis from Alsace, where
he had, after the departure of Horn, found it difficult to defend
himself against the exasperated peasantry. With his army, he was now
summoned to strengthen the army on the Danube; and as even this
reinforcement was insufficient, Duke Bernard of Weimar was earnestly
pressed to turn his arms into this quarter.

Duke Bernard, soon after the opening of
the campaign of 1633, had made himself master of the town and
territory of Bamberg, and was now threatening Wurtzburg. But on
receiving the summons of General Horn, without delay he began his
march towards the Danube, defeated on his way a Bavarian army under
John de Werth, and joined the Swedes near Donauwerth. This numerous
force, commanded by excellent generals, now threatened Bavaria with
a fearful inroad. The bishopric of Eichstadt was completely
overrun, and Ingoldstadt was on the point of being delivered up by
treachery to the Swedes. Altringer, fettered in his movements by
the express order of the Duke of Friedland, and left without
assistance from Bohemia, was unable to check the progress of the
enemy. The most favourable circumstances combined to further the
progress of the Swedish arms in this quarter, when the operations of
the army were at once stopped by a mutiny among the officers.

All the previous successes in Germany
were owing altogether to arms; the greatness of Gustavus himself was
the work of the army, the fruit of their discipline, their bravery,
and their persevering courage under numberless dangers and
privations. However wisely his plans were laid in the cabinet, it
was to the army ultimately that he was indebted for their execution;
and the expanding designs of the general did but continually impose
new burdens on the soldiers. All the decisive advantages of the war,
had been violently gained by a barbarous sacrifice of the soldiers'
lives in winter campaigns, forced marches, stormings, and pitched
battles; for it was Gustavus's maxim never to decline a battle, so
long as it cost him nothing but men. The soldiers could not long be
kept ignorant of their own importance, and they justly demanded a
share in the spoil which had been won by their own blood. Yet,
frequently, they hardly received their pay; and the rapacity of
individual generals, or the wants of the state, generally swallowed
up the greater part of the sums raised by contributions, or levied
upon the conquered provinces. For all the privations he endured,
the soldier had no other recompense than the doubtful chance either
of plunder or promotion, in both of which he was often disappointed.

During the lifetime of Gustavus
Adolphus, the combined influence of fear and hope had suppressed any
open complaint, but after his death, the murmurs were loud and
universal; and the soldiery seized the most dangerous moment to
impress their superiors with a sense of their importance. Two
officers, Pfuhl and Mitschefal, notorious as restless characters,
even during the King's life, set the example in the camp on the
Danube, which in a few days was imitated by almost all the officers
of the army. They solemnly bound themselves to obey no orders, till
these arrears, now outstanding for months, and even years, should be
paid up, and a gratuity, either in money or lands, made to each man,
according to his services. "Immense sums," they said, "were daily
raised by contributions, and all dissipated by a few. They were
called out to serve amidst frost and snow, and no reward requited
their incessant labours. The soldiers' excesses at Heilbronn had
been blamed, but no one ever talked of their services. The world
rung with the tidings of conquests and victories, but it was by
their hands that they had been fought and won." The number of the
malcontents daily increased; and they even attempted by letters,
(which were fortunately intercepted,) to seduce the armies on the
Rhine and in Saxony. Neither the representations of Bernard of
Weimar, nor the stern reproaches of his harsher associate in
command, could suppress this mutiny, while the vehemence of Horn
seemed only to increase the insolence of the insurgents. The
conditions they insisted on, were that certain towns should be
assigned to each regiment for the payment of arrears. Four weeks
were allowed to the Swedish Chancellor to comply with these demands;
and in case of refusal, they announced that they would pay
themselves, and never more draw a sword for Sweden. These pressing
demands, made at the very time when the military chest was
exhausted, and credit at a low ebb, greatly embarrassed the
chancellor. The remedy, he saw, must be found quickly, before the
contagion should spread to the other troops, and he should be
deserted by all his armies at once. Among all the Swedish generals,
there was only one of sufficient authority and influence with the
soldiers to put an end to this dispute.

The Duke of Weimar was the favourite of
the army, and his prudent moderation had won the good-will of the
soldiers, while his military experience had excited their
admiration. He now undertook the task of appeasing the discontented
troops; but, aware of his importance, he embraced the opportunity to
make advantageous stipulations for himself, and to make the
embarrassment of the chancellor subservient to his own views.
Gustavus Adolphus had flattered him with the promise of the Duchy of
Franconia, to be formed out of the Bishoprics of Wurtzburg and
Bamberg, and he now insisted on the performance of this pledge. He
at the same time demanded the chief command, as generalissimo of
Sweden. The abuse which the Duke of Weimar thus made of his
influence, so irritated Oxenstiern, that, in the first moment of his
displeasure, he gave him his dismissal from the Swedish service.
But he soon thought better of it, and determined, instead of
sacrificing so important a leader, to attach him to the Swedish
interests at any cost. He therefore granted to him the Franconian
bishoprics, as a fief of the Swedish crown, reserving, however, the
two fortresses of Wurtzburg and Koenigshofen, which were to be
garrisoned by the Swedes; and also engaged, in name of the Swedish
crown, to secure these territories to the duke. His demand of the
supreme authority was evaded on some specious pretext. The duke did
not delay to display his gratitude for this valuable grant, and by
his influence and activity soon restored tranquillity to the army.
Large sums of money, and still more extensive estates, were divided
among the officers, amounting in value to about five millions of
dollars, and to which they had no other right but that of conquest.
In the mean time, however, the opportunity for a great undertaking
had been lost, and the united generals divided their forces to
oppose the enemy in other quarters.

Gustavus Horn, after a short inroad into
the Upper Palatinate, and the capture of Neumark, directed his march
towards the Swabian frontier, where the Imperialists, strongly
reinforced, threatened Wuertemberg. At his approach, the enemy
retired to the Lake of Constance, but only to show the Swedes the
road into a district hitherto unvisited by war. A post on the
entrance to Switzerland, would be highly serviceable to the Swedes,
and the town of Kostnitz seemed peculiarly well fitted to be a point
of communication between him and the confederated cantons.
Accordingly, Gustavus Horn immediately commenced the siege of it;
but destitute of artillery, for which he was obliged to send to
Wirtemberg, he could not press the attack with sufficient vigour, to
prevent the enemy from throwing supplies into the town, which the
lake afforded them convenient opportunity of doing. He, therefore,
after an ineffectual attempt, quitted the place and its
neighbourhood, and hastened to meet a more threatening danger upon
the Danube.

At the Emperor's instigation, the
Cardinal Infante, the brother of Philip IV. of Spain, and the
Viceroy of Milan, had raised an army of 14,000 men, intended to act
upon the Rhine, independently of Wallenstein, and to protect
Alsace. This force now appeared in Bavaria, under the command of
the Duke of Feria, a Spaniard; and, that they might be directly
employed against the Swedes, Altringer was ordered to join them with
his corps. Upon the first intelligence of their approach, Horn had
summoned to his assistance the Palsgrave of Birkenfeld, from the
Rhine; and being joined by him at Stockach, boldly advanced to meet
the enemy's army of 30,000 men.

The latter had taken the route across
the Danube into Swabia, where Gustavus Horn came so close upon them,
that the two armies were only separated from each other by half a
German mile. But, instead of accepting the offer of battle, the
Imperialists moved by the Forest towns towards Briesgau and Alsace,
where they arrived in time to relieve Breysack, and to arrest the
victorious progress of the Rhinegrave, Otto Louis. The latter had,
shortly before, taken the Forest towns, and, supported by the
Palatine of Birkenfeld, who had liberated the Lower Palatinate and
beaten the Duke of Lorraine out of the field, had once more given
the superiority to the Swedish arms in that quarter. He was now
forced to retire before the superior numbers of the enemy; but Horn
and Birkenfeld quickly advanced to his support, and the
Imperialists, after a brief triumph, were again expelled from
Alsace. The severity of the autumn, in which this hapless
retreat had to be conducted, proved fatal to most of the Italians;
and their leader, the Duke of Feria, died of grief at the failure of
his enterprise.

In the mean time, Duke Bernard of Weimar
had taken up his position on the Danube, with eighteen regiments of
infantry and 140 squadrons of horse, to cover Franconia, and to
watch the movements of the Imperial-Bavarian army upon that river.
No sooner had Altringer departed, to join the Italians under Feria,
than Bernard, profiting by his absence, hastened across the Danube,
and with the rapidity of lightning appeared before Ratisbon. The
possession of this town would ensure the success of the Swedish
designs upon Bavaria and Austria; it would establish them firmly on
the Danube, and provide a safe refuge in case of defeat, while it
alone could give permanence to their conquests in that quarter. To
defend Ratisbon, was the urgent advice which the dying Tilly left to
the Elector; and Gustavus Adolphus had lamented it as an irreparable
loss, that the Bavarians had anticipated him in taking possession of
this place. Indescribable, therefore, was the consternation of
Maximilian, when Duke Bernard suddenly appeared before the town, and
prepared in earnest to besiege it. The garrison consisted of not
more than fifteen companies, mostly newly-raised soldiers; although
that number was more than sufficient to weary out an enemy of far
superior force, if supported by well-disposed and warlike
inhabitants. But this was not the greatest danger which the
Bavarian garrison had to contend against.

The Protestant inhabitants of Ratisbon,
equally jealous of their civil and religious freedom, had
unwillingly submitted to the yoke of Bavaria, and had long looked
with impatience for the appearance of a deliverer. Bernard's
arrival before the walls filled them with lively joy; and there was
much reason to fear that they would support the attempts of the
besiegers without, by exciting a tumult within. In this perplexity,
the Elector addressed the most pressing entreaties to the Emperor
and the Duke of Friedland to assist him, were it only with 5,000
men. Seven messengers in succession were despatched by Ferdinand to
Wallenstein, who promised immediate succours, and even announced to
the Elector the near advance of 12,000 men under Gallas; but at the
same time forbade that general, under pain of death, to march.

Meanwhile the Bavarian commandant of
Ratisbon, in the hope of speedy assistance, made the best
preparations for defence, armed the Roman Catholic peasants,
disarmed and carefully watched the Protestant citizens, lest they
should attempt any hostile design against the garrison. But as no
relief arrived, and the enemy's artillery incessantly battered the
walls, he consulted his own safety, and that of the garrison, by an
honourable capitulation, and abandoned the Bavarian officials and
ecclesiastics to the conqueror's mercy. The possession of Ratisbon,
enlarged the projects of the duke, and Bavaria itself now appeared
too narrow a field for his bold designs. He determined to penetrate
to the frontiers of Austria, to arm the Protestant peasantry against
the Emperor, and restore to them their religious liberty. He had
already taken Straubingen, while another Swedish army was advancing
successfully along the northern bank of the Danube. At the head of
his Swedes, bidding defiance to the severity of the weather, he
reached the mouth of the Iser, which he passed in the presence of
the Bavarian General Werth, who was encamped on that river.

Passau and Lintz trembled for their
fate; the terrified Emperor redoubled his entreaties and commands to
Wallenstein, to hasten with all speed to the relief of the
hard-pressed Bavarians. But here the victorious Bernard, of his own
accord, checked his career of conquest. Having in front of him the
river Inn, guarded by a number of strong fortresses, and behind him
two hostile armies, a disaffected country, and the river Iser, while
his rear was covered by no tenable position, and no entrenchment
could be made in the frozen ground, and threatened by the whole
force of Wallenstein, who had at last resolved to march to the
Danube, by a timely retreat he escaped the danger of being cut off
from Ratisbon, and surrounded by the enemy. He hastened across the
Iser to the Danube, to defend the conquests he had made in the Upper
Palatinate against Wallenstein, and fully resolved not to decline a
battle, if necessary, with that general. But Wallenstein, who was
not disposed for any great exploits on the Danube, did not wait for
his approach; and before the Bavarians could congratulate themselves
on his arrival, he suddenly withdrew again into Bohemia. The duke
thus ended his victorious campaign, and allowed his troops their
well-earned repose in winter quarters upon an enemy's country.

While in Swabia the war was thus
successfully conducted by Gustavus Horn, and on the Upper and Lower
Rhine by the Palatine of Birkenfeld, General Baudissen, and the
Rhinegrave Otto Louis, and by Duke Bernard on the Danube; the
reputation of the Swedish arms was as gloriously sustained in Lower
Saxony and Westphalia by the Duke of Lunenburg and the Landgrave of
Hesse Cassel. The fortress of Hamel was taken by Duke George, after
a brave defence, and a brilliant victory obtained over the imperial
General Gronsfeld, by the united Swedish and Hessian armies, near
Oldendorf.

Count Wasaburg, a natural son of
Gustavus Adolphus, showed himself in this battle worthy of his
descent. Sixteen pieces of cannon, the whole baggage of the
Imperialists, together with 74 colours, fell into the hands of the
Swedes; 3,000 of the enemy perished on the field, and nearly the
same number were taken prisoners. The town of Osnaburg surrendered
to the Swedish Colonel Knyphausen, and Paderborn to the Landgrave of
Hesse; while, on the other hand, Bueckeburg, a very important place
for the Swedes, fell into the hands of the Imperialists. The Swedish
banners were victorious in almost every quarter of Germany; and the
year after the death of Gustavus, left no trace of the loss which
had been sustained in the person of that great leader.

In a review of the important events
which signalized the campaign of 1633, the inactivity of a man, of
whom the highest expectations had been formed, justly excites
astonishment. Among all the generals who distinguished themselves
in this campaign, none could be compared with Wallenstein, in
experience, talents, and reputation; and yet, after the battle of
Lutzen, we lose sight of him entirely. The fall of his great rival
had left the whole theatre of glory open to him; all Europe was now
attentively awaiting those exploits, which should efface the
remembrance of his defeat, and still prove to the world his military
superiority. Nevertheless, he continued inactive in Bohemia, while
the Emperor's losses in Bavaria, Lower Saxony, and the Rhine,
pressingly called for his presence -- a conduct equally
unintelligible to friend and foe -- the terror, and, at the same
time, the last hope of the Emperor. After the defeat of Lutzen he
had hastened into Bohemia, where he instituted the strictest inquiry
into the conduct of his officers in that battle. Those whom the
council of war declared guilty of misconduct, were put to death
without mercy, those who had behaved with bravery, rewarded with
princely munificence, and the memory of the dead honoured by
splendid monuments. During the winter, he oppressed the imperial
provinces by enormous contributions, and exhausted the Austrian
territories by his winter quarters, which he purposely avoided
taking up in an enemy's country. And in the spring of 1633, instead
of being the first to open the campaign, with this well-chosen and
well-appointed army, and to make a worthy display of his great
abilities, he was the last who appeared in the field; and even then,
it was an hereditary province of Austria, which he selected as the
seat of war.

Of all the Austrian provinces, Silesia
was most exposed to danger. Three different armies, a Swedish under
Count Thurn, a Saxon under Arnheim and the Duke of Lauenburg, and
one of Brandenburg under Borgsdorf, had at the same time carried the
war into this country; they had already taken possession of the most
important places, and even Breslau had embraced the cause of the
allies. But this crowd of commanders and armies was the very means
of saving this province to the Emperor; for the jealousy of the
generals, and the mutual hatred of the Saxons and the Swedes, never
allowed them to act with unanimity. Arnheim and Thurn contended for
the chief command; the troops of Brandenburg and Saxony combined
against the Swedes, whom they looked upon as troublesome strangers
who ought to be got rid of as soon as possible.

The Saxons, on the contrary, lived on a
very intimate footing with the Imperialists, and the officers of
both these hostile armies often visited and entertained each other.
The Imperialists were allowed to remove their property without
hindrance, and many did not affect to conceal that they had received
large sums from Vienna. Among such equivocal allies, the Swedes saw
themselves sold and betrayed; and any great enterprise was out of
the question, while so bad an understanding prevailed between the
troops. General Arnheim, too, was absent the greater part of the
time; and when he at last returned, Wallenstein was fast approaching
the frontiers with a formidable force. His army amounted to 40,000
men, while to oppose him the allies had only 24,000. They
nevertheless resolved to give him battle, and marched to
Munsterberg, where he had formed an intrenched camp. But Wallenstein
remained inactive for eight days; he then left his intrenchments,
and marched slowly and with composure to the enemy's camp. But even
after quitting his position, and when the enemy, emboldened by his
past delay, manfully prepared to receive him, he declined the
opportunity of fighting. The caution with which he avoided a battle
was imputed to fear; but the well-established reputation of
Wallenstein enabled him to despise this suspicion. The vanity of
the allies allowed them not to see that he purposely saved them a
defeat, because a victory at that time would not have served his own
ends. To convince them of his superior power, and that his
inactivity proceeded not from any fear of them, he put to death the
commander of a castle that fell into his hands, because he had
refused at once to surrender an untenable place.

For nine days, did the two armies remain
within musket-shot of each other, when Count Terzky, from the camp
of the Imperialists, appeared with a trumpeter in that of the
allies, inviting General Arnheim to a conference. The purport was,
that Wallenstein, notwithstanding his superiority, was willing to
agree to a cessation of arms for six weeks. "He was come," he said,
"to conclude a lasting peace with the Swedes, and with the princes
of the empire, to pay the soldiers, and to satisfy every one. All
this was in his power; and if the Austrian court hesitated to
confirm his agreement, he would unite with the allies, and (as he
privately whispered to Arnheim) hunt the Emperor to the devil." At
the second conference, he expressed himself still more plainly to
Count Thurn.

"All the privileges of the Bohemians,"
he engaged, "should be confirmed anew, the exiles recalled and
restored to their estates, and he himself would be the first to
resign his share of them. The Jesuits, as the authors of all past
grievances, should be banished, the Swedish crown indemnified by
stated payments, and all the superfluous troops on both sides
employed against the Turks." The last article explained the whole
mystery.

"If," he continued, "HE should obtain
the crown of Bohemia, all the exiles would have reason to applaud
his generosity; perfect toleration of religions should be
established within the kingdom, the Palatine family be reinstated in
its rights, and he would accept the Margraviate of Moravia as a
compensation for Mecklenburg. The allied armies would then, under
his command, advance upon Vienna, and sword in hand, compel the
Emperor to ratify the treaty."

Thus was the veil at last removed from
the schemes, over which he had brooded for years in mysterious
silence. Every circumstance now convinced him that not a moment was
to be lost in its execution. Nothing but a blind confidence in the
good fortune and military genius of the Duke of Friedland, had
induced the Emperor, in the face of the remonstrances of Bavaria and
Spain, and at the expense of his own reputation, to confer upon this
imperious leader such an unlimited command. But this belief in
Wallenstein's being invincible, had been much weakened by his
inaction, and almost entirely overthrown by the defeat at Lutzen.
His enemies at the imperial court now renewed their intrigues; and
the Emperor's disappointment at the failure of his hopes, procured
for their remonstrances a favourable reception. Wallenstein's whole
conduct was now reviewed with the most malicious criticism; his
ambitious haughtiness, his disobedience to the Emperor's orders,
were recalled to the recollection of that jealous prince, as well as
the complaints of the Austrian subjects against his boundless
oppression; his fidelity was questioned, and alarming hints thrown
out as to his secret views. These insinuations, which the conduct
of the duke seemed but too well to justify, failed not to make a
deep impression on Ferdinand; but the step had been taken, and the
great power with which Wallenstein had been invested, could not be
taken from him without danger. Insensibly to diminish that power,
was the only course that now remained, and, to effect this, it must
in the first place be divided; but, above all, the Emperor's present
dependence on the good will of his general put an end to.

But even this right had been resigned in
his engagement with Wallenstein, and the Emperor's own handwriting
secured him against every attempt to unite another general with him
in the command, or to exercise any immediate act of authority over
the troops. As this disadvantageous contract could neither be kept
nor broken, recourse was had to artifice. Wallenstein was Imperial
Generalissimo in Germany, but his command extended no further, and
he could not presume to exercise any authority over a foreign army.
A Spanish army was accordingly raised in Milan, and marched into
Germany under a Spanish general. Wallenstein now ceased to be
indispensable because he was no longer supreme, and in case of
necessity, the Emperor was now provided with the means of support
even against him.

The duke quickly and deeply felt whence
this blow came, and whither it was aimed. In vain did he protest
against this violation of the compact, to the Cardinal Infante; the
Italian army continued its march, and he was forced to detach
General Altringer to join it with a reinforcement. He took care,
indeed, so closely to fetter the latter, as to prevent the Italian
army from acquiring any great reputation in Alsace and Swabia; but
this bold step of the court awakened him from his security, and
warned him of the approach of danger. That he might not a second
time be deprived of his command, and lose the fruit of all his
labours, he must accelerate the accomplishment of his long meditated
designs. He secured the attachment of his troops by removing the
doubtful officers, and by his liberality to the rest. He had
sacrificed to the welfare of the army every other order in the
state, every consideration of justice and humanity, and therefore he
reckoned upon their gratitude. At the very moment when he meditated
an unparalleled act of ingratitude against the author of his own
good fortune, he founded all his hopes upon the gratitude which was
due to himself.

The leaders of the Silesian armies had
no authority from their principals to consent, on their own
discretion, to such important proposals as those of Wallenstein, and
they did not even feel themselves warranted in granting, for more
than a fortnight, the cessation of hostilities which he demanded.
Before the duke disclosed his designs to Sweden and Saxony, he had
deemed it advisable to secure the sanction of France to his bold
undertaking. For this purpose, a secret negociation had been
carried on with the greatest possible caution and distrust, by Count
Kinsky with Feuquieres, the French ambassador at Dresden, and had
terminated according to his wishes. Feuquieres received orders from
his court to promise every assistance on the part of France, and to
offer the duke a considerable pecuniary aid in case of need. But it
was this excessive caution to secure himself on all sides, that led
to his ruin. The French ambassador with astonishment discovered
that a plan, which, more than any other, required secrecy, had been
communicated to the Swedes and the Saxons. And yet it was generally
known that the Saxon ministry was in the interests of the Emperor,
and on the other hand, the conditions offered to the Swedes fell too
far short of their expectations to be likely to be accepted.

Feuquieres, therefore, could not believe
that the duke could be serious in calculating upon the aid of the
latter, and the silence of the former. He communicated accordingly
his doubts and anxieties to the Swedish chancellor, who equally
distrusted the views of Wallenstein, and disliked his plans.
Although it was no secret to Oxenstiern, that the duke had formerly
entered into a similar negociation with Gustavus Adolphus, he could
not credit the possibility of inducing a whole army to revolt, and
of his extravagant promises. So daring a design, and such imprudent
conduct, seemed not to be consistent with the duke's reserved and
suspicious temper, and he was the more inclined to consider the
whole as the result of dissimulation and treachery, because he had
less reason to doubt his prudence than his honesty.

Oxenstiern's doubts at last affected
Arnheim himself, who, in full confidence in Wallenstein's sincerity,
had repaired to the chancellor at Gelnhausen, to persuade him to
lend some of his best regiments to the duke, to aid him in the
execution of the plan. They began to suspect that the whole
proposal was only a snare to disarm the allies, and to betray the
flower of their troops into the hands of the Emperor. Wallenstein's
well-known character did not contradict the suspicion, and the
inconsistencies in which he afterwards involved himself, entirely
destroyed all confidence in his sincerity. While he was
endeavouring to draw the Swedes into this alliance, and requiring
the help of their best troops, he declared to Arnheim that they must
begin with expelling the Swedes from the empire; and while the Saxon
officers, relying upon the security of the truce, repaired in great
numbers to his camp, he made an unsuccessful attempt to seize them.
He was the first to break the truce, which some months afterwards he
renewed, though not without great difficulty. All confidence in his
sincerity was lost; his whole conduct was regarded as a tissue of
deceit and low cunning, devised to weaken the allies and repair his
own strength.

This indeed he actually did effect, as
his own army daily augmented, while that of the allies was reduced
nearly one half by desertion and bad provisions. But he did not
make that use of his superiority which Vienna expected. When all
men were looking for a decisive blow to be struck, he suddenly
renewed the negociations; and when the truce lulled the allies into
security, he as suddenly recommenced hostilities. All these
contradictions arose out of the double and irreconcileable designs
to ruin at once the Emperor and the Swedes, and to conclude a
separate peace with the Saxons.

Impatient at the ill success of his
negociations, he at last determined to display his strength; the
more so, as the pressing distress within the empire, and the growing
dissatisfaction of the Imperial court, admitted not of his making
any longer delay. Before the last cessation of hostilities, General
Holk, from Bohemia, had attacked the circle of Meissen, laid waste
every thing on his route with fire and sword, driven the Elector
into his fortresses, and taken the town of Leipzig. But the truce in
Silesia put a period to his ravages, and the consequences of his
excesses brought him to the grave at Adorf.

As soon as hostilities were recommenced,
Wallenstein made a movement, as if he designed to penetrate through
Lusatia into Saxony, and circulated the report that Piccolomini had
already invaded that country. Arnheim immediately broke up his camp
in Silesia, to follow him, and hastened to the assistance of the
Electorate. By this means the Swedes were left exposed, who were
encamped in small force under Count Thurn, at Steinau, on the Oder,
and this was exactly what Wallenstein desired. He allowed the Saxon
general to advance sixteen miles towards Meissen, and then suddenly
turning towards the Oder, surprised the Swedish army in the most
complete security. Their cavalry were first beaten by General
Schafgotsch, who was sent against them, and the infantry completely
surrounded at Steinau by the duke's army which followed.
Wallenstein gave Count Thurn half an hour to deliberate whether he
would defend himself with 2,500 men, against more than 20,000, or
surrender at discretion. But there was no room for deliberation.
The army surrendered, and the most complete victory was obtained
without bloodshed. Colours, baggage, and artillery all fell into
the hands of the victors, the officers were taken into custody, the
privates drafted into the army of Wallenstein. And now at last,
after a banishment of fourteen years, after numberless changes of
fortune, the author of the Bohemian insurrection, and the remote
origin of this destructive war, the notorious Count Thurn, was in
the power of his enemies. With blood-thirsty impatience, the
arrival of this great criminal was looked for in Vienna, where they
already anticipated the malicious triumph of sacrificing so
distinguished a victim to public justice. But to deprive the
Jesuits of this pleasure, was a still sweeter triumph to
Wallenstein, and Thurn was set at liberty. Fortunately for him, he
knew more than it was prudent to have divulged in Vienna, and his
enemies were also those of Wallenstein.

A defeat might have been forgiven in
Vienna, but this disappointment of their hopes they could not
pardon. "What should I have done with this madman?" he writes, with
a malicious sneer, to the minister who called him to account for
this unseasonable magnanimity. "Would to Heaven the enemy had no
generals but such as he. At the head of the Swedish army, he will
render us much better service than in prison."

The victory of Steinau was followed by
the capture of Liegnitz, Grossglogau, and even of Frankfort on the
Oder. Schafgotsch, who remained in Silesia to complete the
subjugation of that province, blockaded Brieg, and threatened
Breslau, though in vain, as that free town was jealous of its
privileges, and devoted to the Swedes. Colonels Illo and Goetz were
ordered by Wallenstein to the Warta, to push forwards into
Pomerania, and to the coasts of the Baltic, and actually obtained
possession of Landsberg, the key of Pomerania. While thus the
Elector of Brandenburg and the Duke of Pomerania were made to
tremble for their dominions, Wallenstein himself, with the remainder
of his army, burst suddenly into Lusatia, where he took Goerlitz by
storm, and forced Bautzen to surrender. But his object was merely
to alarm the Elector of Saxony, not to follow up the advantages
already obtained; and therefore, even with the sword in his hand, he
continued his negociations for peace with Brandenburg and Saxony,
but with no better success than before, as the inconsistencies of
his conduct had destroyed all confidence in his sincerity. He was
therefore on the point of turning his whole force in earnest against
the unfortunate Saxons, and effecting his object by force of arms,
when circumstances compelled him to leave these territories.

The conquests of Duke Bernard upon the
Danube, which threatened Austria itself with immediate danger,
urgently demanded his presence in Bavaria; and the expulsion of the
Saxons and Swedes from Silesia, deprived him of every pretext for
longer resisting the Imperial orders, and leaving the Elector of
Bavaria without assistance. With his main body, therefore, he
immediately set out for the Upper Palatinate, and his retreat freed
Upper Saxony for ever of this formidable enemy. So long as was
possible, he had delayed to move to the rescue of Bavaria, and on
every pretext evaded the commands of the Emperor. He had, indeed,
after reiterated remonstrances, despatched from Bohemia a
reinforcement of some regiments to Count Altringer, who was
defending the Lech and the Danube against Horn and Bernard, but
under the express condition of his acting merely on the defensive.
He referred the Emperor and the Elector, whenever they applied to
him for aid, to Altringer, who, as he publicly gave out, had
received unlimited powers; secretly, however, he tied up his hands
by the strictest injunctions, and even threatened him with death, if
he exceeded his orders.

When Duke Bernard had appeared before
Ratisbon, and the Emperor as well as the Elector repeated still more
urgently their demand for succour, he pretended he was about to
despatch General Gallas with a considerable army to the Danube; but
this movement also was delayed, and Ratisbon, Straubing, and Cham,
as well as the bishopric of Eichstaedt, fell into the hands of the
Swedes. When at last he could no longer neglect the orders of the
Court, he marched slowly toward the Bavarian frontier, where he
invested the town of Cham, which had been taken by the Swedes. But
no sooner did he learn that on the Swedish side a diversion was
contemplated, by an inroad of the Saxons into Bohemia, than he
availed himself of the report, as a pretext for immediately
retreating into that kingdom. Every consideration, he urged, must
be postponed to the defence and preservation of the hereditary
dominions of the Emperor; and on this plea, he remained firmly fixed
in Bohemia, which he guarded as if it had been his own property.
And when the Emperor laid upon him his commands to move towards the
Danube, and prevent the Duke of Weimar from establishing himself in
so dangerous a position on the frontiers of Austria, Wallenstein
thought proper to conclude the campaign a second time, and quartered
his troops for the winter in this exhausted kingdom.

Such continued insolence and unexampled
contempt of the Imperial orders, as well as obvious neglect of the
common cause, joined to his equivocal behaviour towards the enemy,
tended at last to convince the Emperor of the truth of those
unfavourable reports with regard to the Duke, which were current
through Germany. The latter had, for a long time, succeeded in
glozing over his criminal correspondence with the enemy, and
persuading the Emperor, still prepossessed in his favour, that the
sole object of his secret conferences was to obtain peace for
Germany. But impenetrable as he himself believed his proceedings to
be, in the course of his conduct, enough transpired to justify the
insinuations with which his rivals incessantly loaded the ear of the
Emperor. In order to satisfy himself of the truth or falsehood of
these rumours, Ferdinand had already, at different times, sent spies
into Wallenstein's camp; but as the Duke took the precaution never
to commit anything to writing, they returned with nothing but
conjectures. But when, at last, those ministers who formerly had
been his champions at the court, in consequence of their estates not
being exempted by Wallenstein from the general exactions, joined his
enemies; when the Elector of Bavaria threatened, in case of
Wallenstein being any longer retained in the supreme command, to
unite with the Swedes; when the Spanish ambassador insisted on his
dismissal, and threatened, in case of refusal, to withdraw the
subsidies furnished by his Crown, the Emperor found himself a second
time compelled to deprive him of the command.

The Emperor's authoritative and direct
interference with the army, soon convinced the Duke that the compact
with himself was regarded as at an end, and that his dismissal was
inevitable. One of his inferior generals in Austria, whom he had
forbidden, under pain of death, to obey the orders of the court,
received the positive commands of the Emperor to join the Elector of
Bavaria; and Wallenstein himself was imperiously ordered to send
some regiments to reinforce the army of the Cardinal Infante, who
was on his march from Italy. All these measures convinced him that
the plan was finally arranged to disarm him by degrees, and at once,
when he was weak and defenceless, to complete his ruin.

In self-defence, must he now hasten to
carry into execution the plans which he had originally formed only
with the view to aggrandizement. He had delayed too long, either
because the favourable configuration of the stars had not yet
presented itself, or, as he used to say, to check the impatience of
his friends, because THE TIME WAS NOT YET COME. The time, even now,
was not come: but the pressure of circumstances no longer allowed
him to await the favour of the stars. The first step was to assure
himself of the sentiments of his principal officers, and then to try
the attachment of the army, which he had so long confidently
reckoned on. Three of them, Colonels Kinsky, Terzky, and Illo, had
long been in his secrets, and the two first were further united to
his interests by the ties of relationship. The same wild ambition,
the same bitter hatred of the government, and the hope of enormous
rewards, bound them in the closest manner to Wallenstein, who, to
increase the number of his adherents, could stoop to the lowest
means. He had once advised Colonel Illo to solicit, in Vienna, the
title of Count, and had promised to back his application with his
powerful mediation. But he secretly wrote to the ministry, advising
them to refuse his request, as to grant it would give rise to
similar demands from others, whose services and claims were equal to
his. On Illo's return to the camp, Wallenstein immediately demanded
to know the success of his mission; and when informed by Illo of its
failure, he broke out into the bitterest complaints against the
court. "Thus," said he, "are our faithful services rewarded. My
recommendation is disregarded, and your merit denied so trifling a
reward! Who would any longer devote his services to so ungrateful a
master? No, for my part, I am henceforth the determined foe of
Austria." Illo agreed with him, and a close alliance was cemented
between them.

But what was known to these three
confidants of the duke, was long an impenetrable secret to the rest;
and the confidence with which Wallenstein spoke of the devotion of
his officers, was founded merely on the favours he had lavished on
them, and on their known dissatisfaction with the Court. But this
vague presumption must be converted into certainty, before he could
venture to lay aside the mask, or take any open step against the
Emperor. Count Piccolomini, who had distinguished himself by his
unparalleled bravery at Lutzen, was the first whose fidelity he put
to the proof. He had, he thought, gained the attachment of this
general by large presents, and preferred him to all others, because
born under the same constellations with himself. He disclosed to
him, that, in consequence of the Emperor's ingratitude, and the near
approach of his own danger, he had irrevocably determined entirely
to abandon the party of Austria, to join the enemy with the best
part of his army, and to make war upon the House of Austria, on all
sides of its dominions, till he had wholly extirpated it. In the
execution of this plan, he principally reckoned on the services of
Piccolomini, and had beforehand promised him the greatest rewards.
When the latter, to conceal his amazement at this extraordinary
communication, spoke of the dangers and obstacles which would oppose
so hazardous an enterprise, Wallenstein ridiculed his fears. "In
such enterprises," he maintained, "nothing was difficult but the
commencement. The stars were propitious to him, the opportunity the
best that could be wished for, and something must always be trusted
to fortune. His resolution was taken, and if it could not be
otherwise, he would encounter the hazard at the head of a thousand
horse." Piccolomini was careful not to excite Wallenstein's
suspicions by longer opposition, and yielded apparently to the force
of his reasoning. Such was the infatuation of the Duke, that
notwithstanding the warnings of Count Terzky, he never doubted the
sincerity of this man, who lost not a moment in communicating to the
court at Vienna this important conversation.

Preparatory to taking the last decisive
step, he, in January 1634, called a meeting of all the commanders of
the army at Pilsen, whither he had marched after his retreat from
Bavaria. The Emperor's recent orders to spare his hereditary
dominions from winter quarterings, to recover Ratisbon in the middle
of winter, and to reduce the army by a detachment of six thousand
horse to the Cardinal Infante, were matters sufficiently grave to be
laid before a council of war; and this plausible pretext served to
conceal from the curious the real object of the meeting. Sweden and
Saxony received invitations to be present, in order to treat with
the Duke of Friedland for a peace; to the leaders of more distant
armies, written communications were made. Of the commanders thus
summoned, twenty appeared; but three most influential, Gallas,
Colloredo, and Altringer, were absent. The Duke reiterated his
summons to them, and in the mean time, in expectation of their
speedy arrival, proceeded to execute his designs.

It was no light task that he had to
perform: a nobleman, proud, brave, and jealous of his honour, was
to declare himself capable of the basest treachery, in the very
presence of those who had been accustomed to regard him as the
representative of majesty, the judge of their actions, and the
supporter of their laws, and to show himself suddenly as a traitor,
a cheat, and a rebel. It was no easy task, either, to shake to its
foundations a legitimate sovereignty, strengthened by time and
consecrated by laws and religion; to dissolve all the charms of the
senses and the imagination, those formidable guardians of an
established throne, and to attempt forcibly to uproot those
invincible feelings of duty, which plead so loudly and so powerfully
in the breast of the subject, in favour of his sovereign. But,
blinded by the splendour of a crown, Wallenstein observed not the
precipice that yawned beneath his feet; and in full reliance on his
own strength, the common case with energetic and daring minds, he
stopped not to consider the magnitude and the number of the
difficulties that opposed him.

Wallenstein saw nothing but an army,
partly indifferent and partly exasperated against the court,
accustomed, with a blind submission, to do homage to his great name,
to bow to him as their legislator and judge, and with trembling
reverence to follow his orders as the decrees of fate. In the
extravagant flatteries which were paid to his omnipotence, in the
bold abuse of the court government, in which a lawless soldiery
indulged, and which the wild licence of the camp excused, he thought
he read the sentiments of the army; and the boldness with which they
were ready to censure the monarch's measures, passed with him for a
readiness to renounce their allegiance to a sovereign so little
respected. But that which he had regarded as the lightest matter,
proved the most formidable obstacle with which he had to contend;
the soldiers' feelings of allegiance were the rock on which his
hopes were wrecked. Deceived by the profound respect in which he
was held by these lawless bands, he ascribed the whole to his own
personal greatness, without distinguishing how much he owed to
himself, and how much to the dignity with which he was invested.
All trembled before him, while he exercised a legitimate authority,
while obedience to him was a duty, and while his consequence was
supported by the majesty of the sovereign. Greatness, in and of
itself, may excite terror and admiration; but legitimate greatness
alone can inspire reverence and submission; and of this decisive
advantage he deprived himself, the instant he avowed himself a
traitor.

Field-Marshal Illo undertook to learn
the sentiments of the officers, and to prepare them for the step
which was expected of them. He began by laying before them the new
orders of the court to the general and the army; and by the
obnoxious turn he skilfully gave to them, he found it easy to excite
the indignation of the assembly. After this well chosen
introduction, he expatiated with much eloquence upon the merits of
the army and the general, and the ingratitude with which the Emperor
was accustomed to requite them. "Spanish influence," he maintained,
"governed the court; the ministry were in the pay of Spain; the Duke
of Friedland alone had hitherto opposed this tyranny, and had thus
drawn down upon himself the deadly enmity of the Spaniards. To
remove him from the command, or to make away with him entirely," he
continued, "had long been the end of their desires; and, until they
could succeed in one or other, they endeavoured to abridge his power
in the field. The command was to be placed in the hands of the King
of Hungary, for no other reason than the better to promote the
Spanish power in Germany; because this prince, as the ready
instrument of foreign counsels, might be led at pleasure. It was
merely with the view of weakening the army, that the six thousand
troops were required for the Cardinal Infante; it was solely for the
purpose of harassing it by a winter campaign, that they were now
called on, in this inhospitable season, to undertake the recovery of
Ratisbon. The means of subsistence were everywhere rendered
difficult, while the Jesuits and the ministry enriched themselves
with the sweat of the provinces, and squandered the money intended
for the pay of the troops. The general, abandoned by the court,
acknowledges his inability to keep his engagements to the army.

For all the services which, for two and
twenty years, he had rendered the House of Austria; for all the
difficulties with which he had struggled; for all the treasures of
his own, which he had expended in the imperial service, a second
disgraceful dismissal awaited him. But he was resolved the matter
should not come to this; he was determined voluntarily to resign the
command, before it should be wrested from his hands; and this,"
continued the orator, "is what, through me, he now makes known to
his officers. It was now for them to say whether it would be
advisable to lose such a general. Let each consider who was to
refund him the sums he had expended in the Emperor's service, and
where he was now to reap the reward of their bravery, when he who
was their evidence removed from the scene."

A universal cry, that they would not
allow their general to be taken from them, interrupted the speaker.
Four of the principal officers were deputed to lay before him the
wish of the assembly, and earnestly to request that he would not
leave the army. The duke made a show of resistance, and only yielded
after the second deputation. This concession on his side, seemed to
demand a return on theirs; as he engaged not to quit the service
without the knowledge and consent of the generals, he required of
them, on the other hand, a written promise to truly and firmly
adhere to him, neither to separate nor to allow themselves to be
separated from him, and to shed their last drop of blood in his
defence. Whoever should break this covenant, was to be regarded as
a perfidious traitor, and treated by the rest as a common enemy.
The express condition which was added, "AS LONG AS WALLENSTEIN SHALL
EMPLOY THE ARMY IN THE EMPEROR'S SERVICE," seemed to exclude all
misconception, and none of the assembled generals hesitated at once
to accede to a demand, apparently so innocent and so reasonable.

This document was publicly read before
an entertainment, which Field-Marshal Illo had expressly prepared
for the purpose; it was to be signed, after they rose from table.
The host did his utmost to stupify his guests by strong potations;
and it was not until he saw them affected with the wine, that he
produced the paper for signature. Most of them wrote their names,
without knowing what they were subscribing; a few only, more curious
or more distrustful, read the paper over again, and discovered with
astonishment that the clause "as long as Wallenstein shall employ
the army for the Emperor's service" was omitted. Illo had, in fact,
artfully contrived to substitute for the first another copy, in
which these words were wanting. The trick was manifest, and many
refused now to sign. Piccolomini, who had seen through the whole
cheat, and had been present at this scene merely with the view of
giving information of the whole to the court, forgot himself so far
in his cups as to drink the Emperor's health. But Count Terzky now
rose, and declared that all were perjured villains who should recede
from their engagement. His menaces, the idea of the inevitable
danger to which they who resisted any longer would be exposed, the
example of the rest, and Illo's rhetoric, at last overcame their
scruples; and the paper was signed by all without exception.

Wallenstein had now effected his
purpose; but the unexpected resistance he had met with from the
commanders roused him at last from the fond illusions in which he
had hitherto indulged. Besides, most of the names were scrawled so
illegibly, that some deceit was evidently intended. But instead of
being recalled to his discretion by this warning, he gave vent to
his injured pride in undignified complaints and reproaches. He
assembled the generals the next day, and undertook personally to
confirm the whole tenor of the agreement which Illo had submitted to
them the day before. After pouring out the bitterest reproaches and
abuse against the court, he reminded them of their opposition to the
proposition of the previous day, and declared that this circumstance
had induced him to retract his own promise. The generals withdrew
in silence and confusion; but after a short consultation in the
antichamber, they returned to apologize for their late conduct, and
offered to sign the paper anew.

Nothing now remained, but to obtain a
similar assurance from the absent generals, or, on their refusal, to
seize their persons. Wallenstein renewed his invitation to them, and
earnestly urged them to hasten their arrival. But a rumour of the
doings at Pilsen reached them on their journey, and suddenly stopped
their further progress. Altringer, on pretence of sickness, remained
in the strong fortress of Frauenberg. Gallas made his appearance,
but merely with the design of better qualifying himself as an
eyewitness, to keep the Emperor informed of all Wallenstein's
proceedings. The intelligence which he and Piccolomini gave, at
once converted the suspicions of the court into an alarming
certainty. Similar disclosures, which were at the same time made
from other quarters, left no room for farther doubt; and the sudden
change of the commanders in Austria and Silesia, appeared to be the
prelude to some important enterprise.

The danger was pressing, and the remedy
must be speedy, but the court was unwilling to proceed at once to
the execution of the sentence, till the regular forms of justice
were complied with. Secret instructions were therefore issued to
the principal officers, on whose fidelity reliance could be placed,
to seize the persons of the Duke of Friedland and of his two
associates, Illo and Terzky, and keep them in close confinement,
till they should have an opportunity of being heard, and of
answering for their conduct; but if this could not be accomplished
quietly, the public danger required that they should be taken dead
or live. At the same time, General Gallas received a patent
commission, by which these orders of the Emperor were made known to
the colonels and officers, and the army was released from its
obedience to the traitor, and placed under Lieutenant-General
Gallas, till a new generalissimo could be appointed. In order to
bring back the seduced and deluded to their duty, and not to drive
the guilty to despair, a general amnesty was proclaimed, in regard
to all offences against the imperial majesty committed at Pilsen.

General Gallas was not pleased with the
honour which was done him. He was at Pilsen, under the eye of the
person whose fate he was to dispose of; in the power of an enemy,
who had a hundred eyes to watch his motions. If Wallenstein once
discovered the secret of his commission, nothing could save him from
the effects of his vengeance and despair. But if it was thus
dangerous to be the secret depositary of such a commission, how much
more so to execute it? The sentiments of the generals were
uncertain; and it was at least doubtful whether, after the step they
had taken, they would be ready to trust the Emperor's promises, and
at once to abandon the brilliant expectations they had built upon
Wallenstein's enterprise. It was also hazardous to attempt to lay
hands on the person of a man who, till now, had been considered
inviolable; who from long exercise of supreme power, and from
habitual obedience, had become the object of deepest respect; who
was invested with every attribute of outward majesty and inward
greatness; whose very aspect inspired terror, and who by a nod
disposed of life and death! To seize such a man, like a common
criminal, in the midst of the guards by whom he was surrounded, and
in a city apparently devoted to him; to convert the object of this
deep and habitual veneration into a subject of compassion, or of
contempt, was a commission calculated to make even the boldest
hesitate. So deeply was fear and veneration for their general
engraven in the breasts of the soldiers, that even the atrocious
crime of high treason could not wholly eradicate these sentiments.

Gallas perceived the impossibility of
executing his commission under the eyes of the duke; and his most
anxious wish was, before venturing on any steps, to have an
interview with Altringer. As the long absence of the latter had
already begun to excite the duke's suspicions, Gallas offered to
repair in person to Frauenberg, and to prevail on Altringer, his
relation, to return with him. Wallenstein was so pleased with this
proof of his zeal, that he even lent him his own equipage for the
journey. Rejoicing at the success of his stratagem, he left Pilsen
without delay, leaving to Count Piccolomini the task of watching
Wallenstein's further movements. He did not fail, as he went along,
to make use of the imperial patent, and the sentiments of the troops
proved more favourable than he had expected. Instead of taking back
his friend to Pilsen, he despatched him to Vienna, to warn the
Emperor agaist the intended attack, while he himself repaired to
Upper Austria, of which the safety was threatened by the near
approach of Duke Bernard. In Bohemia, the towns of Budweiss and
Tabor were again garrisoned for the Emperor, and every precaution
taken to oppose with energy the designs of the traitor.

As Gallas did not appear disposed to
return, Piccolomini determined to put Wallenstein's credulity once
more to the test. He begged to be sent to bring back Gallas, and
Wallenstein suffered himself a second time to be overreached. This
inconceivable blindness can only be accounted for as the result of
his pride, which never retracted the opinion it had once formed of
any person, and would not acknowledge, even to itself, the
possibility of being deceived. He conveyed Count Piccolomini in his
own carriage to Lintz, where the latter immediately followed the
example of Gallas, and even went a step farther. He had promised
the duke to return. He did so, but it was at the head of an army,
intending to surprise the duke in Pilsen. Another army under
General Suys hastened to Prague, to secure that capital in its
allegiance, and to defend it against the rebels. Gallas, at the
same time, announced himself to the different imperial armies as the
commander-in-chief, from whom they were henceforth to receive
orders. Placards were circulated through all the imperial camps,
denouncing the duke and his four confidants, and absolving the
soldiers from all obedience to him.

The example which had been set at Lintz,
was universally followed; imprecations were showered on the traitor,
and he was forsaken by all the armies. At last, when even
Piccolomini returned no more, the mist fell from Wallenstein's eyes,
and in consternation he awoke from his dream. Yet his faith in the
truth of astrology, and in the fidelity of the army was unshaken.
Immediately after the intelligence of Piccolomini's defection, he
issued orders, that in future no commands were to be obeyed, which
did not proceed directly from himself, or from Terzky, or Illo. He
prepared, in all haste, to advance upon Prague, where he intended to
throw off the mask, and openly to declare against the Emperor. All
the troops were to assemble before that city, and from thence to
pour down with rapidity upon Austria. Duke Bernard, who had joined
the conspiracy, was to support the operations of the duke, with the
Swedish troops, and to effect a diversion upon the Danube.

Terzky was already upon his march
towards Prague; and nothing, but the want of horses, prevented the
duke from following him with the regiments who still adhered
faithfully to him. But when, with the most anxious expectation, he
awaited the intelligence from Prague, he suddenly received
information of the loss of that town, the defection of his generals,
the desertion of his troops, the discovery of his whole plot, and
the rapid advance of Piccolomini, who was sworn to his destruction.
Suddenly and fearfully had all his projects been ruined -- all his
hopes annihilated. He stood alone, abandoned by all to whom he had
been a benefactor, betrayed by all on whom he had depended.

But it is under such circumstances that
great minds reveal themselves. Though deceived in all his
expectations, he refused to abandon one of his designs; he despaired
of nothing, so long as life remained. The time was now come, when he
absolutely required that assistance, which he had so often solicited
from the Swedes and the Saxons, and when all doubts of the sincerity
of his purposes must be dispelled. And now, when Oxenstiern and
Arnheim were convinced of the sincerity of his intentions, and were
aware of his necessities, they no longer hesitated to embrace the
favourable opportunity, and to offer him their protection.

On the part of Saxony, the Duke Francis
Albert of Saxe Lauenberg was to join him with 4,000 men; and Duke
Bernard, and the Palatine Christian of Birkenfeld, with 6,000 from
Sweden, all chosen troops. Wallenstein left Pilsen, with Terzky's
regiment, and the few who either were, or pretended to be, faithful
to him, and hastened to Egra, on the frontiers of the kingdom, in
order to be near the Upper Palatinate, and to facilitate his
junction with Duke Bernard. He was not yet informed of the decree
by which he was proclaimed a public enemy and traitor; this
thunder-stroke awaited him at Egra. He still reckoned on the army,
which General Schafgotsch was preparing for him in Silesia, and
flattered himself with the hope that many even of those who had
forsaken him, would return with the first dawning of success. Even
during his flight to Egra (so little humility had he learned from
melancholy experience) he was still occupied with the colossal
scheme of dethroning the Emperor. It was under these circumstances,
that one of his suite asked leave to offer him his advice. "Under
the Emperor," said he, "your highness is certain of being a great
and respected noble; with the enemy, you are at best but a
precarious king. It is unwise to risk certainty for uncertainty.
The enemy will avail themselves of your personal influence, while
the opportunity lasts; but you will ever be regarded with suspicion,
and they will always be fearful lest you should treat them as you
have done the Emperor. Return, then, to your allegiance, while
there is yet time. -- "And how is that to be done?" said
Wallenstein, interrupting him: "You have 40,000 men-at-arms,"
rejoined he, (meaning ducats, which were stamped with the figure of
an armed man,) "take them with you, and go straight to the Imperial
Court; then declare that the steps you have hitherto taken were
merely designed to test the fidelity of the Emperor's servants, and
of distinguishing the loyal from the doubtful; and since most have
shown a disposition to revolt, say you are come to warn his Imperial
Majesty against those dangerous men. Thus you will make those appear
as traitors, who are labouring to represent you as a false villain.
At the Imperial Court, a man is sure to be welcome with 40,000
ducats, and Friedland will be again as he was at the first." --
"The advice is good," said Wallenstein, after a pause, "but let the
devil trust to it."

While the duke, in his retirement in
Egra, was energetically pushing his negociations with the enemy,
consulting the stars, and indulging in new hopes, the dagger which
was to put an end to his existence was unsheathed almost under his
very eyes. The imperial decree which proclaimed him an outlaw, had
not failed of its effect; and an avenging Nemesis ordained that the
ungrateful should fall beneath the blow of ingratitude. Among his
officers, Wallenstein had particularly distinguished one Leslie, an
Irishman, [Schiller is mistaken as to this point. Leslie was a
Scotchman, and Buttler an Irishman and a papist. He died a general
in the Emperor's service, and founded, at Prague, a convent of Irish
Franciscans which still exists.] and had made his fortune. This was
the man who now felt himself called on to execute the sentence
against him, and to earn the price of blood. No sooner had he
reached Egra, in the suite of the duke, than he disclosed to the
commandant of the town, Colonel Buttler, and to Lieutenant-Colonel
Gordon, two Protestant Scotchmen, the treasonable designs of the
duke, which the latter had imprudently enough communicated to him
during the journey. In these two individuals, he had found men
capable of a determined resolution. They were now called on to
choose between treason and duty, between their legitimate sovereign
and a fugitive abandoned rebel; and though the latter was their
common benefactor, the choice could not remain for a moment
doubtful. They were solemnly pledged to the allegiance of the
Emperor, and this duty required them to take the most rapid measures
against the public enemy. The opportunity was favourable; his evil
genius seemed to have delivered him into the hands of vengeance.
But not to encroach on the province of justice, they resolved to
deliver up their victim alive; and they parted with the bold resolve
to take their general prisoner. This dark plot was buried in the
deepest silence; and Wallenstein, far from suspecting his impending
ruin, flattered himself that in the garrison of Egra he possessed
his bravest and most faithful champions.

At this time, he became acquainted with
the Imperial proclamations containing his sentence, and which had
been published in all the camps. He now became aware of the full
extent of the danger which encompassed him, the utter impossibility
of retracing his steps, his fearfully forlorn condition, and the
absolute necessity of at once trusting himself to the faith and
honour of the Emperor's enemies. To Leslie he poured forth all the
anguish of his wounded spirit, and the vehemence of his agitation
extracted from him his last remaining secret. He disclosed to this
officer his intention to deliver up Egra and Ellenbogen, the passes
of the kingdom, to the Palatine of Birkenfeld, and at the same time,
informed him of the near approach of Duke Bernard, of whose arrival
he hoped to receive tidings that very night. These disclosures,
which Leslie immediately communicated to the conspirators, made them
change their original plan. The urgency of the danger admitted not
of half measures. Egra might in a moment be in the enemy's hands,
and a sudden revolution set their prisoner at liberty. To
anticipate this mischance, they resolved to assassinate him and his
associates the following night. In order to execute this design with
less noise, it was arranged that the fearful deed should be
perpetrated at an entertainment which Colonel Buttler should give in
the Castle of Egra. All the guests, except Wallenstein, made their
appearance, who being in too great anxiety of mind to enjoy company
excused himself. With regard to him, therefore, their plan must be
again changed; but they resolved to execute their design against the
others.

The three Colonels, Illo, Terzky, and
William Kinsky, came in with careless confidence, and with them
Captain Neumann, an officer of ability, whose advice Terzky sought
in every intricate affair. Previous to their arrival, trusty
soldiers of the garrison, to whom the plot had been communicated,
were admitted into the Castle, all the avenues leading from it
guarded, and six of Buttler's dragoons concealed in an apartment
close to the banqueting-room, who, on a concerted signal, were to
rush in and kill the traitors. Without suspecting the danger that
hung over them, the guests gaily abandoned themselves to the
pleasures of the table, and Wallenstein's health was drunk in full
bumpers, not as a servant of the Emperor, but as a sovereign
prince. The wine opened their hearts, and Illo, with exultation,
boasted that in three days an army would arrive, such as Wallenstein
had never before been at the head of. "Yes," cried Neumann, "and
then he hopes to bathe his hands in Austrian blood." During this
conversation, the dessert was brought in, and Leslie gave the
concerted signal to raise the drawbridges, while he himself received
the keys of the gates. In an instant, the hall was filled with
armed men, who, with the unexpected greeting of "Long live
Ferdinand!" placed themselves behind the chairs of the marked
guests. Surprised, and with a presentiment of their fate, they
sprang from the table. Kinsky and Terzky were killed upon the spot,
and before they could put themselves upon their guard. Neumann,
during the confusion in the hall, escaped into the court, where,
however, he was instantly recognised and cut down. Illo alone had
the presence of mind to defend himself. He placed his back against a
window, from whence he poured the bitterest reproaches upon Gordon,
and challenged him to fight him fairly and honourably. After a
gallant resistance, in which he slew two of his assailants, he fell
to the ground overpowered by numbers, and pierced with ten wounds.
The deed was no sooner accomplished, than Leslie hastened into the
town to prevent a tumult.

The sentinels at the castle gate, seeing
him running and out of breath, and believing he belonged to the
rebels, fired their muskets after him, but without effect. The
firing, however, aroused the town-guard, and all Leslie's presence
of mind was requisite to allay the tumult. He hastily detailed to
them all the circumstances of Wallenstein's conspiracy, the measures
which had been already taken to counteract it, the fate of the four
rebels, as well as that which awaited their chief. Finding the
troops well disposed, he exacted from them a new oath of fidelity to
the Emperor, and to live and die for the good cause. A hundred of
Buttler's dragoons were sent from the Castle into the town to patrol
the streets, to overawe the partisans of the Duke, and to prevent
tumult. All the gates of Egra were at the same time seized, and
every avenue to Wallenstein's residence, which adjoined the
market-place, guarded by a numerous and trusty body of troops,
sufficient to prevent either his escape or his receiving any
assistance from without. But before they proceeded finally to
execute the deed, a long conference was held among the conspirators
in the Castle, whether they should kill him, or content themselves
with making him prisoner. Besprinkled as they were with the blood,
and deliberating almost over the very corpses of his murdered
associates, even these furious men yet shuddered at the horror of
taking away so illustrious a life. They saw before their mind's eye
him their leader in battle, in the days of his good fortune,
surrounded by his victorious army, clothed with all the pomp of
military greatness, and long-accustomed awe again seized their
minds. But this transitory emotion was soon effaced by the thought
of the immediate danger. They remembered the hints which Neumann
and Illo had thrown out at table, the near approach of a formidable
army of Swedes and Saxons, and they clearly saw that the death of
the traitor was their only chance of safety. They adhered,
therefore, to their first resolution, and Captain Deveroux, an
Irishman, who had already been retained for the murderous purpose,
received decisive orders to act.

While these three officers were thus
deciding upon his fate in the castle of Egra, Wallenstein was
occupied in reading the stars with Seni. "The danger is not yet
over," said the astrologer with prophetic spirit. "IT IS," replied
the Duke, who would give the law even to heaven. "But," he
continued with equally prophetic spirit, "that thou friend Seni
thyself shall soon be thrown into prison, that also is written in
the stars." The astrologer had taken his leave, and Wallenstein had
retired to bed, when Captain Deveroux appeared before his residence
with six halberdiers, and was immediately admitted by the guard, who
were accustomed to see him visit the general at all hours. A page
who met him upon the stairs, and attempted to raise an alarm, was
run through the body with a pike. In the antichamber, the assassins
met a servant, who had just come out of the sleeping-room of his
master, and had taken with him the key. Putting his finger upon his
mouth, the terrified domestic made a sign to them to make no noise,
as the Duke was asleep. "Friend," cried Deveroux, "it is time to
awake him;" and with these words he rushed against the door, which
was also bolted from within, and burst it open.

Wallenstein had been roused from his
first sleep, by the report of a musket which had accidentally gone
off, and had sprung to the window to call the guard. At the same
moment, he heard, from the adjoining building, the shrieks of the
Countesses Terzky and Kinsky, who had just learnt the violent fate
of their husbands. Ere he had time to reflect on these terrible
events, Deveroux, with the other murderers, was in his chamber. The
Duke was in his shirt, as he had leaped out of bed, and leaning on a
table near the window. "Art thou the villain," cried Deveroux to
him, "who intends to deliver up the Emperor's troops to the enemy,
and to tear the crown from the head of his Majesty? Now thou must
die!" He paused for a few moments, as if expecting an answer; but
scorn and astonishment kept Wallenstein silent. Throwing his arms
wide open, he received in his breast, the deadly blow of the
halberds, and without uttering a groan, fell weltering in his blood.

The next day, an express arrived from
the Duke of Lauenburg, announcing his approach. The messenger was
secured, and another in Wallenstein's livery despatched to the Duke,
to decoy him into Egra. The stratagem succeeded, and Francis Albert
fell into the hands of the enemy. Duke Bernard of Weimar, who was on
his march towards Egra, was nearly sharing the same fate.
Fortunately, he heard of Wallenstein's death in time to save himself
by a retreat. Ferdinand shed a tear over the fate of his general,
and ordered three thousand masses to be said for his soul at Vienna;
but, at the same time, he did not forget to reward his assassins
with gold chains, chamberlains' keys, dignities, and estates. Thus
did Wallenstein, at the age of fifty, terminate his active and
extraordinary life. To ambition, he owed both his greatness and his
ruin; with all his failings, he possessed great and admirable
qualities, and had he kept himself within due bounds, he would have
lived and died without an equal. The virtues of the ruler and of
the hero, prudence, justice, firmness, and courage, are strikingly
prominent features in his character; but he wanted the gentler
virtues of the man, which adorn the hero, and make the ruler
beloved. Terror was the talisman with which he worked; extreme in
his punishments as in his rewards, he knew how to keep alive the
zeal of his followers, while no general of ancient or modern times
could boast of being obeyed with equal alacrity. Submission to his
will was more prized by him than bravery; for, if the soldiers work
by the latter, it is on the former that the general depends. He
continually kept up the obedience of his troops by capricious
orders, and profusely rewarded the readiness to obey even in
trifles; because he looked rather to the act itself, than its
object. He once issued a decree, with the penalty of death on
disobedience, that none but red sashes should be worn in the army.
A captain of horse no sooner heard the order, than pulling off his
gold-embroidered sash, he trampled it under foot; Wallenstein, on
being informed of the circumstance, promoted him on the spot to the
rank of Colonel. His comprehensive glance was always directed to
the whole, and in all his apparent caprice, he steadily kept in view
some general scope or bearing.

The robberies committed by the soldiers
in a friendly country, had led to the severest orders against
marauders; and all who should be caught thieving, were threatened
with the halter. Wallenstein himself having met a straggler in the
open country upon the field, commanded him to be seized without
trial, as a transgressor of the law, and in his usual voice of
thunder, exclaimed, "Hang the fellow," against which no opposition
ever availed. The soldier pleaded and proved his innocence, but the
irrevocable sentence had gone forth. "Hang then innocent," cried
the inexorable Wallenstein, "the guilty will have then more reason
to tremble." Preparations were already making to execute the
sentence, when the soldier, who gave himself up for lost, formed the
desperate resolution of not dying without revenge. He fell furiously
upon his judge, but was overpowered by numbers, and disarmed before
he could fulfil his design. "Now let him go," said the Duke, "it
will excite sufficient terror." His munificence was supported by an
immense income, which was estimated at three millions of florins
yearly, without reckoning the enormous sums which he raised under
the name of contributions. His liberality and clearness of
understanding, raised him above the religious prejudices of his age;
and the Jesuits never forgave him for having seen through their
system, and for regarding the pope as nothing more than a bishop of
Rome.

But as no one ever yet came to a
fortunate end who quarrelled with the Church, Wallenstein also must
augment the number of its victims. Through the intrigues of monks,
he lost at Ratisbon the command of the army, and at Egra his life;
by the same arts, perhaps, he lost what was of more consequence, his
honourable name and good repute with posterity. For in justice it
must be admitted, that the pens which have traced the history of
this extraordinary man are not untinged with partiality, and that
the treachery of the duke, and his designs upon the throne of
Bohemia, rest not so much upon proven facts, as upon probable
conjecture. No documents have yet been brought to light, which
disclose with historical certainty the secret motives of his
conduct; and among all his public and well attested actions, there
is, perhaps, not one which could not have had an innocent end. Many
of his most obnoxious measures proved nothing but the earnest wish
he entertained for peace; most of the others are explained and
justified by the well-founded distrust he entertained of the
Emperor, and the excusable wish of maintaining his own importance.
It is true, that his conduct towards the Elector of Bavaria looks
too like an unworthy revenge, and the dictates of an implacable
spirit; but still, none of his actions perhaps warrant us in holding
his treason to be proved. If necessity and despair at last forced
him to deserve the sentence which had been pronounced against him
while innocent, still this, if true, will not justify that
sentence. Thus Wallenstein fell, not because he was a rebel, but he
became a rebel because he fell. Unfortunate in life that he made a
victorious party his enemy, and still more unfortunate in death,
that the same party survived him and wrote his history.

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